Bensalem Himmich - The Polymath

“Now you’re asking me to venture into the complex topic of history’s lessons. So write down that my thinking on the topic has gone through at least two phases. The first was the longer and coincided with my youth and the early stages of middle age. I believed then that history held a number of advantages; it was, I thought, a repository of major concepts and source of exemplary lessons. The second phase, lasting right up to today, is one in which I have come to question the ability of rulers and authority figures to delve into history and to consider its ramifications as I have described them. Expressed differently, I have doubts about their readiness to do so. Whether the brand of authoritarianism they apply is effective or atrocious, to me they all seem to be ruling with no memory, almost vying with each other either to forget the errors and calamities of past eras or to grab on to them. It’s as though, Hammu, they’re refusing point blank to listen to history — in other words, to the past — as being an authoritative source of object lessons and cautionary tales, as a veritable anthology of standards and yardsticks that stands totally in opposition to warped and crooked desires and instincts. And it is precisely here that the primary issue resides: the vast majority of people ignore history because it specifically goes against current trends and necessities. It is particularly rulers of countries and regions who choose to ignore history so that the past cannot become something that causes them to remember and ponder what has happened in the past, indeed something that through deeds and conflicts will inevitably become their own past as well. What is left for a historian? What is he supposed to do?”

Al-Hihi assumed that these two questions were being posed to him, and hurriedly pursed his lips to indicate that he had no answer to them. His expression relaxed however when ‘Abd al-Rahman started talking again.

“Write down, Hammu, that, when confronted with this dilemma, historians fall into a number of categories. The first consists of people who are not even aware that there is a problem to be addressed. They wander aimlessly about without going beyond the basic information they have or contemplating its significance so that they can apply sound principles to its analysis. Then there’s a second group of historians who realize that there is indeed an issue at stake, but still choose to ignore it for fear of its impinging on their habits and way of life. A third group continues to recognize the issue. They look at it with a patient eye and work consistently at it, all in the hope of witnessing some improvement in the mental abilities of rulers and of raising the profile of history and knowledge of civilizations among the younger generation and legal authorities.”

“Master, you are someone who, in spite of everything, continues to cling to a glimmer of hope. Don’t you think that the majority of historians are themselves undeniably at fault for the way in which their discipline has seen such a decline from its lofty goals?”

“Most certainly they are at fault, and what a fault it is! A story tells that one of them, a slimy sycophant like so many others, was asked once why he was such a fixture in the palaces of rulers. His response was that his consciousness was steeped in the cups of their coterie, while his stomach only found its ease at their tables.”

Al-Hihi managed to suppress his laughter by invoking the name of God against such hypocrisy and hypocrites. That was soon followed by the voice of his master continuing his dictation.

“The demise of the discipline of history,” ‘Abd al-Rahman went on in a bitter and weary tone, “can be attributed directly to its practitioners. Just like soldiers, scribes, and spies, or even court littérateurs, astrologers, and other functionaries, they’re all engaged in profitable employment. For such historians, truth is not something that we can only broach after a good deal of effort and exhaustion; it’s whatever the prevailing authorities and powers state that it should be. They’re always with the majority, glorifying its version of reality as the truth and advocating its logic as exquisitely rational. Even so, are we to blame them alone, the assumption being that they can choose their own mode of behavior? Or should we be looking for some kind of excuse in the extreme cruelty of this era and the total power of the ruler? Tell me, Hammu!”

“That’s a tough question, Master. I cannot possibly answer it. Let me toss it back to you. After all, you know more than I do about the profession and the people who practice it.”

“Then write down — God grant you a long life — that my condemnation of historians is neither total nor absolute. I single out for blame those who cling like glue to the bootstraps of authority, purveyors of information and rumor, willing servants of the ringing dinar, and denizens of the havens of luminaries. They are the ones I am referring to. Keeping their spittle dry, as the saying goes, they willingly allow themselves to follow the paths of coercion. The blindness and vertigo that grip them as a consequence make them lose their ability to discriminate. They find themselves incapable of comprehending reality or staying in touch with the daily life of God’s people in the country concerned. Hammu, many are the forces that resort to rapine and oppression. Some historians relish the idea and are motivated by sheer greed, but there are others who prefer to flee from the very notion or else deal with its contradictions by following the lead of those who are truly concerned about the probity of both their soul and discipline.”

“You clearly belong in this second category, Master, people who examine the issues in depth and avoid the contamination of worldly pleasures.”

“I can’t function as both advocate and arbiter. I’m not the one to say whether your judgment is correct or not; that lies with other people who will have to examine carefully the way I’ve transferred from one capital city to another in the Maghrib and al-Andalus. But you can certainly record one constant in my life, something from which you may be able to make useful deductions: my dogged insistence on slipping away — like extracting the proverbial strand from the dough, and on walking on tiptoe. That way, whenever I’ve noticed dark clouds of malice and anger gathering round me with their implicit threats of arrest and death, escape has always been my primary resort. When that did not work, I could always use travel for the purposes of learning or pilgrimage as my excuse. No one can find fault with people who, when faced with the fickle forces of tyranny, seek safety and peace of mind.”

With that, ‘Abd al-Rahman brought the session to a close. He still had the lingering sense that he had not adequately addressed the issue of change and the lessons of history, nor had he really examined all its aspects. He left for the night in the hope that he would come back to the topic some time in the future, aided and abetted by the spontaneous and intelligent queries of his amanuensis.

The Night at the End of Jumada al-Ula

Once the master had sat down with his amanuensis, the servant brought in a pot of coffee and two bowls of yogurt. As usual, the room was quiet; this time the ambience had been enhanced with extra candlelight and a newly hung lamp. It was al-Hihi who started the serious conversation between the two men; he was always ready and eager to acquaint his master with the latest news about God’s people and the sultan. He portrayed the latter as always standing idly by while all sorts of illicit means were being used for personal gain. With regard to the latter he would record how people made do as best they could, bolstered by jokes at the expense of politicians and notables and relishing to the full all kinds of malicious rumors. All of a sudden Ibn Khaldun perked up, as though he had just remembered something.